Tis the Season
by keb1991
Summary: Dean and Sammy go Christmas shopping for John, but what can two kids with hardly any money buy the hunter with everything? [Dean is 12, Sam is 8]


Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story, not even the idea, and I am not making any money.

Summary: Dean and Sammy go Christmas shopping for John, but what can two kids with hardly any money buy the hunter with everything? Dean is 12, Sam is 8. Written for the lj community, spn(underscore)christmas.

Warning: This is completely unbetaed. Sorry for any mistakes.

'Tis the Season

_Christmas Eve 1991_

"Sammy!" Dean called into the cramped, two bedroom apartment, slamming the front door behind him and dropping his books on the floor. "Sammy, I'm home!"

_Silence. _

Dean stepped into the kitchen, noticing Sam's backpack thrown unceremoniously on the table, close to toppling over the edge.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, more to himself than the house as he made his was upstairs. When he reached the top floor he found his and Sam's bedroom door closed. Slowly approaching the door, he leaned his ear softly against the wood, listening for any movements.

_Sniffle. _

"Sammy, you in there bud?"

No response.

"Sam? I'm coming in."

_Shuffe._

"Sam?" Dean asked as he opened the door, noticing a large blob under the bedcovers. He made his way over and sat at the foot of the bed before slowly pulling the covers back, revealing his puffy-eyed, red-nosed, distraught little brother.

Dean looked closely at his sibling, taking in the other boy's appearance before asking, "What's wrong, Sammy?"

"Nothin'," was the muffled response from Sam, whose head was now buried in the pillow, trying desperately to hide his tears from his brother.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

Sam knew that tone, the one Dean used when he wasn't messing around. That demanding tone.

Sam rolled onto his back before letting his emotions spill in one breath, "Today in school Sarah Fisher asked me what I was doin' for Christmas break and I didn't know what to say and then she told me about all the stuff she was gettin' for Christmas and how her family was goin' out for dinner and she asked me what I was gettin' and she said that everybody gets something for Christmas but Dean we didn't get anything for dad for Christmas and it's already a day away!"

Dean was overwhelmed. Christmas was tomorrow? How could he have forgotten? It could be due to the fact that their family rarely celebrated holidays. Their father never even acknowledged most holidays; Easter, Thanksgiving, birthdays…but Christmas was different. Every year their dad would do _something_ to celebrate the holiday - a present here, or a dinner there. But this year it seems he forgot. Dean never really understood what their father enjoyed about this holiday over others, but he learned to appreciate the small "holiday" he and Sam got every year and move on with it.

But this year both Dean and their father had _forgotten_.

So Dean decided he'd try and make it better, at least for Sam's sake. "Hey, we'll figure something out, okay?"

"'kay."

Dean wracked his brain. Their father had called the day before telling the brothers that he wouldn't be home for a couple more days.

_I have to think of something._

SNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMAS

An hour later the two younger Winchesters were walking around the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, jackets wrapped tightly around them to fight against the bitter cold. They came across a small antique shop, which looked quite insignificant sandwiched between the crowded shops around it.

As the boys entered the building they became overwhelmed with the feeling of _home_.

The shop, besides being quaint and tiny, was unlike any other store they had ever been in. Anything from toys to candlesticks to furniture could be found around the building. But everything was unique. There weren't two of anything in the whole store. And, Dean noticed, the building was scarce of any shoppers besides themselves.

"Hello!" A plump, kind-looking shopkeeper emerged from behind the counter, approaching the brothers. "Welcome to Lou's Antiques. The only shop in town where you can find anything you could ever imagine. Is there something in particular you two needed help with?"

Dean put on his best 'innocent child' smile before answering, "Why yes, ma'am. Me and my brother are looking for a Christmas present for our dad."

"Last minute shoppers, huh?" the woman, apparently Lou, replied.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, do you have something in mind?"

"We're not really sure what to get him, actually," Dean admitted, before adding, "and…we don't really have that much money."

Lou looked at them for a long time. "Well that's alright. Whatever you can't pay, I'll make up the balance. 'Tis the season, right?" she answered heartily.

"Ma'am, that's very kind of you, but we can't do that."

"Why not?" she asked, slightly taken aback.

"Because that wouldn't be right."

She thought for a minute. "Alright. How 'bout you can make it up to me by helping me around the store?"

It was Dean's turn to think. It seemed like a good idea. He would be able to get Dad a Christmas present, which would make Dad happy, which would make Sammy happy. And all Dean would have to do was help a lady out. "Okay."

"Good. Now, what does your dad like to do?"

"Hunt," Dean answered with a smile.

"Hmmm," she thought. "Anything else? What does he do for work?"

"He's a salesman."

"Before that?"

"Mechanic."

"Before that?"

"He was in the Marines," Dean answered brightly. He always thought it was cool that his dad was in the Marines.

"The Marines, huh? A retired Marine who likes to hunt." She considered this statement for a moment before replying, "come with me," before walking to the back of the store.

Dean looked at Sam, who was being unusually quiet, before dragging the younger boy after Lou.

"Wait here," she said before entering the back room.

When she emerged, she handed Dean the item. "Now, I'm not supposed to sell these to minors; however, and I hope I don't have to regret this, I'm going to make an exception.

"A knife?"

"That's not just any knife, young man. It's an original U.S. V-42 World War II Elite Special Forces Knife, and I think it would be the perfect gift for your dad. How 'bout you guys?"

After silently agreeing with Sam, Dean answered, "We'll take it."

SNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMAS

_2:34 a.m. Christmas Morning_

John silently entered the apartment. He had called earlier that night to tell the boys that he would be coming home a little earlier than planned. As he came upon the living room he found his two boys on the couch. Asleep.

Well, one of them was anyways.

Dean, of course, was still awake. Waiting for his father to come home.

John saw as Sam stirred from his slumber with a start, nearly falling off of the tiny couch.

"Dad!" Sam jumped up from his place on the couch before throwing his little body at his father in a tight hug around his legs. "You're home!"

And that's when John noticed the thing behind Dean's back.

Dean walked up to his dad, a small smile on his face, before handing over a long, narrow box wrapped in newspaper. "Merry Christmas."

John's heart jumped a little at that. It was Christmas? He had forgotten Christmas.

"Hey buddy, what's this?"

"A present," Dean answered simply.

"Open it," was Sam's reply.

John open the neatly wrapped gift, revealing a large hunting knife.

"You guys got me a knife? How'd you manage to do that one?"

"Dean did it," Sam answered.

John looked at his eldest son, who was standing next to him with a nervous look in his eyes.

"Thank you, boys," John said, causing Dean's face to brighten up. "Now, off to bed you two," and as an afterthought, "Merry Christmas."

SNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMASSNCHRISTMAS

_December 29th_

"Hey Dean, where you going?" John called from the kitchen table upon seeing his oldest barrel down the hallway, jacket in tow.

"Umm…if it's okay I was going to go meet some friends…at the park," was Dean's answer.

"Okay son, don't stay out too late," John told him before returning to his papers, a slight smile gracing his face. He'd had a little chat with Sam that morning.

"Bye dad!" Dean called.

"Bye," John answered, before adding, "And don't work yourself too hard!" before Dean had fully closed the door.

The End.

AN: Wow, I truly feel sorry for Sam and Dean now. John's a real hard guy to shop for. And feedback is love. Happy holidays everyone.


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